Smile
by Thehopefulbluebird
Summary: I wrote this after reading a beautiful quote. I hope you like it.


**I wrote this quick fic after reading a lovely quote from Mother Teresa, hope you enjoy.**

He walked to the post office to collect all the letters for all the staff. It wasn't one of his favorite things to do; he often felt envious of the younger members of staff who always seemed to have a letter, unlike him who had no family left, never had a sister nor a brother and with both parents passed on, well that was it. He never did have many friends and the ones he did have seemed to have faded away slowly, ever since he became the brilliant yet apparently boring butler of Downton Abbey. He also hated having to pick up letters from that man who asked _his_ Mrs. Hughes to marry him once, no wait it's twice now. Oh how he knew she said no again but he couldn't help but to worry; that man constantly writes to her now, probably to persuade her to change her mind. He knew Mrs. Hughes was adamant once her mind was made but he also knew she never liked to see people sad and if she thought she was the cause, then it would only be a matter of time…

"Mr. Carson?"

"Oh sorry, I was just deep in thought," He apologized.

"I take it you're here to collect everyone's letters again?" asked the post office mistress.

"Yes, I am."

She handed all the letters over and he thanked her then she remembered.

"Oh! I almost forgot; we found this behind our counter yesterday," she said, handing over a letter addressed: 'Mr. Carson' in swirly writing, "It wasn't posted, somebody must have left it here but it's so crumpled they must have left it a while ago and it got knocked behind the counter."

"Oh," he said rather surprised, "thank you."

He walked out of the post office bewildered, it wasn't that he wasn't happy, after all nobody ever wrote him anything, it was just so strange for him to get a letter. He held it in his hands while he walked, constantly debating if he should wait until he got to his room to open it or just rip it open right there and then. He couldn't decide and just put in his coat pocket. Then took it out again.

_It'll be nothing so I might as well read it._

He ripped it open and scanned through the words and then stopped. Still. He reread it, sure he'd read it wrong the first time since it was rather odd.

_Dear Mr. Carson,_

"_Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing."_

_With love._

What did it mean? Did it mean he didn't smile enough; was somebody telling him to cheer up? Was somebody saying they liked his smile? Or was it a hint, did somebody really love him? No that would be stupid he thought. He told himself to stop kidding himself but he couldn't help it; the 'what-ifs' kept running through his head, the hopes had been risen and they weren't falling any time soon; not until they would be crashed down by his own arguments.

When he returned to Downton, he gave out everybody's letters; including Mrs. Hughes's which he nearly threw out from hatred of _that man. _Then he continued his work, polishing, recording wines, waiting, but everything was done with heavy lines on his forehead. He was desperate to get to the bottom of this strange letter, he'd decided he was being stupid when he thought it was a love letter, thought nobody would go to the effort of writing a letter to tell him to 'cheer up' and came to the conclusion it was a prank by one of the local lads. The only question was; who?

He sat alone at his desk, writing a list of things to do for the next day. But the letter lay at the top of the desk and he kept looking at it, he tried to keep his eyes on the paper but he couldn't.

"That damn thing." He muttered as he shoved it back in his pocket.

"Were you talking to yourself?" asked Mrs. Hughes.

Carson turned around shocked to find her standing at the door, "I wish you'd knock; you scare me to death doing that. But yes I was."

She chuckled, "Perhaps I enjoy terrifying you?"

"You probably do," he smiled as he looked at her tired yet pretty face.

"Oh Mr. Carson! You look so tired; you have looked a bit out of it today."

"Nonsense."

"Come sit down with me," she said.

And he did, which was ironic really considering it was his room, but then again he always did end up doing what she said.

"Now what on Earth has been bothering you?"

He reached into his pocket and produced the letter, "I received this today and it's rather odd; I am utterly confused as to who sent it to me."

Mrs. Hughes looked at the envelope, then to him, back to the envelope and back to him. Then she looked him in the eye and simply smiled.

"_Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing."_

**I hope you enjoyed but I wasn't too happy with how it turned out, it sounded better in my head but if you enjoyed please leave a review. **


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